O tongue you are an endless treasure. O tongue, you are also an endless disease.

I am the servant of the Qur'an as long as I have life. I am the dust on the path of Muhammad, the Chosen One.

Actually, your soul and mine are the same. We appear and disappear with each other.

Everyone sleeps, except lovers, who stay awake, telling stories to God

You are the fountain of the sun. I'm the shadow of a willow. You fall upon my forehead. I melt. You slip into my heart. It spills open. You surround me with such sweetness. I make it my home.

In Silence there is eloquence.

You’re a song, a wished-for song.